Roman

Idrove like a man possessed to the outskirts of Verona, my head churning the whole way. My father might have had something to do with this. My own goddamn father. How could Julianna ever forgive me if this were true? How could she still care about?—?

I slashed that thought in half before I could finish it. Julianna had a moment of weakness last night when she asked me to stay with her. She didn't care about me. How could she?

Giovanni Tyrell still lived in the house I had grown up in, a vast, cold fortress of marble and granite. At least when my mother had been alive, she had left warm human touches on the place, vases of sunflowers and wild violets, rich, colorful landscape paintings done by local artists, soft rugs and sunny throws over every sterile piece of furniture. Under my father's sole care, it looked like a soulless luxury hotel.

I stormed down the wide corridor, the stomp of my boots echoing off the marble and stark white walls, ignoring the maid calling after me. "Sir! Mr. Tyrell! Please. He's not to be disturbed."

Abel blocked the doors to my father's study where my father ate his breakfast while he read the day's papers. He always had. He was, if anything, a creature of habit.

"Get out of my way," I growled.

Abel didn't move. I didn't slow my strides as I shoved past him like a linebacker, breaking through the defense. He made the mistake of grabbing the back of my shirt. I turned and decked him square in the jaw. He let go of me, stumbling back with a grunt. I didn't stop to assess the damage. I burst through the door into my father's study.

Giovanni Tyrell sat behind his expensive mahogany desk dressed in his royal blue bathrobe, our family crest, an eagle with vines, emblazoned on his chest pocket. There was a plate of croissants, tiny pots of butter and jam, and a pot of black coffee at his elbow. Papers spread out in front of him. My father didn't even flinch at the sight of me. In fact, he almost looked bored as he tore off a piece of pastry and stabbed it into his mouth with his thick fingers, chewing slowly and thoughtfully.

I stood before his desk, chest heaving, fists clenched at my sides. "Somebody is trying to snatch the police chief's daughter."

Behind me I heard the maid and Abel both apologizing for letting me in. My father waved them away and they backed out, still mumbling apologies.

The door clicked shut behind me. My father turned his dark glittering eyes on me. Just like when I was a boy, a bolt of fear went through me. "Why does this matter to you?"

Lie, Roman. Because your life and hers depends on it."Targeting the chief's daughter, a detective in her own right, a detective who just happens to have both of us under suspicion for a recent murder, puts the crosshairs of the police on our back, something which I thought you didn't want to happen. It's bad for business, isn't that what you said?"

"She has a dangerous job. Bad things happen to people in her position."

I gritted my teeth. That wasn't an admission. That wasn't a denial either. "I just want to make sure it wasn't our stupid move."

"You've got some balls coming in here and accusing me of being stupid, son."

"Are you admitting you tried to have her kidnapped?"

"No."

"I'm supposed to be your heir. I should have been consulted if this job was ordered. It needs to be called off, now."

My father's eyes narrowed at me. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were concerned about this detective woman."

I snorted and forced as much derision as I could in my snarl. "I'm concerned about not driving our business into the ground because we've pissed off the chief of police so much that he makes it his mission to bring us down. I'm the one who's supposed to take over after you're gone. I don't plan on taking over a pile of rubble."

For a few terse moments, my father and I just glared at each other.

I suddenly felt very vulnerable standing in my father's office, in his house, surrounded by his men. What if he had ordered Julianna kidnapped? What if he found out I'd been the one to save her?

A smile crawled across my father's face, causing a bolt of fear to go through me. I feared his smile more than his anger. "I knew I was right to bring you back into the fold, Roman. I knew you would step up into the role. I think you might be ready to see more of our operations."

I tried to ignore the chill that ran down my spine. The more of his operation I saw, the harder it was to get out. I felt the darkness reaching for me.

"You still haven't answered my question about the chief's daughter," I said.

My father took a long, almost delicate sip of his coffee. He placed the china cup down before folding his fingers in front of him. "No. I have not authorized the capture of the lovely detective Capulet."

I didn't believe him. "So who would it be if not us? The Veronesis again?"

"She's a detective. She has arrested and pissed off a number of bad people. Maybe one of them did it? Now, get out of my study so I can eat my breakfast in peace. Unless there's something else you'd like to accuse me of?" My father leveled a stare at me.

"No, Father." I almost thanked him but I bit my tongue. My father would slap me if I thanked him, if I thanked anybody for anything. I was a Tyrell. I was entitled to whatever I wanted. Thank no one, apologize to no one. That's what he always taught me.

I turned, eager to see this house in my rearview mirror. It felt like the lion's den.

I was almost to the door of my father's study when his voice made me halt. "How did you know, by the way?"

A knot developed in my throat as I turned back to look at him. "Know what?"

"How did you know that someone ordered her capture?"

Shit. I was so furious at the thought that my father could've been the one behind this, I barely thought twice before coming over here. I just wanted answers. Now I may have betrayed myself.

I shrugged, keeping my face casual. "I have my sources just like you have yours." I walked out of his study before he could ask any more questions.

Abel scowled at me as I strode past him, but I ignored him. As I showed myself out, I felt the eyes of my father's men stationed around the house. My senses tingled with anticipation. None of them pulled a weapon on me. Or tried to stop me.

Did I believe my father? Did I believe that he had nothing to do with this? If he did order her capture, then he just lied to me. He lied to me, which meant that he didn't trust me. If he didn't trust me, then I was already in trouble.

If he tried to kidnap Julianna, he'd try again. Not so soon after a failed attempt. But he wouldn't wait too long either. Being around her was too risky. I had to stop watching her if I knew what was smart. I couldn't step in to save her again if it meant exposing myself. I had to stay away from her.

But telling myself to stay away was futile. It was clear from the way I had launched at the two attackers last night without concern to myself that I'd do anything to protect her. Even risk my own damn life.